There's always someone
by Varishi
Summary: Kid Flash has finally been put in a position where possibly only he can prevent a murder, and that's because this kid is exactly like him. Rated T for violence. DISCLAIMER: I don't own Young Justice. ONESHOT


_**Hi everyone, this is a bit of a weird one. I just don't feel like I'll be able to focus on my other stories before I get this one written out!**_

_**Anyway, I hope you enjoy it despite the weirdness!**_

"What you're talking about is vengeance, not justice." I reasoned. We had been alerted to a call that there was a hostage situation in progress and that they were father and son. Although this wasn't the way around I had expected it to be. The kid was holding his father hostage and appeared to have every intention of killing the man. This kid had already informed me that he had been abused almost all his life and my heart really did go out for him.

"There's no difference anymore!" He yelled back in desperation. He tightened his grip on the gun and then pushed it to his father's temple. The older man grunted nervously; he was sweating like a pig and he sort of looked like one too. He was clearly strong and the bruises on the kids arms were clear evidence that he wasn't lying about what this guy had been doing to his kid.

"Yes there is, and you know it." It wasn't working; I wasn't getting through to him at all. He reminded me of myself all of those years ago. I remembered being in a position similar to this. The kid even sounded like an earlier version of myself. I took pity on him, how could I not if he reminded me of myself? He was just a scared child who needed help.

"You don't understand. I _can't _live in a world that he exists in!" The boy pleaded back. It was almost as though he was no longer worried about actually shooting his father, he seemed more afraid of what would happen to him if he _didn't _shoot. It made a strange kind of sense in a way.

"I understand, just listen to me because I'm going to tell you a story." I said calmingly. The kid gawped at me disbelievingly for a moment, just like my team did, but I understood exactly what was going through the kid's mind and I knew exactly the story to tell the kid to get him to drop the gun and forget that he had ever thought about shooting it.

It was years ago, long before I was ever Kid Flash, long before I even considered myself a real human being even. This kid wasn't the only one in the world who had ever considered killing his own parents. Hell, that thought used to run through my head at least three times weekly. It had taken a while, but finally I had figured out that you can't depend on anyone. You can't rely on any person who isn't you: because no one else cares. Tell a kid that he's useless enough times and he starts to believe it: and once he starts to believe it, he'll believe anything else you say to drag him down too. This is how I learned the difference between vengeance and justice.

My relationship with my parents had always been a little – how do you put it? – s_trained._ We all used to argue a lot, at first it was just my mother and father taking out their frustration at their mediocre lives out on each other. But then I started to get myself involved. It was stupid really. I would just say something teasingly, and then the whole thing would escalate from there. What can I say? After years of listening to your role models, your parents, arguing day in and day out you tend to think of it as normalcy and join in yourself. Why not, right? This is what normal families do, right? Wrong. I was so wrong, but I was just a kid so how was I supposed to know that?

It was only when things started to get a little bit more heated, and a little bit more directed at me that I started to come home from school every day scared. I mean, my Dad didn't hit me often, but when he did he built up to it. It was always terrifying to live through and I regret every day that I just simply stood there and waited for him to finish his ranting and raving and hit me. It would always be only once, but he would really make it count. He made excuses, like he loved me too much to watch me mess up my life so I was _forcing _him to do this: to discipline me. He probably told me more lies in one day than I ever told anyone to conceal my hero identity in one month.

It got to that point one day when I came home from school and saw my father beckoning me by crooking his finger towards himself over and over – that gesture that I had grown to recognise so well – and instead of miserably slinking over to him I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. I was then presented with two roads and I only had a short period of time to decide which road to take before my sanity collapsed completely and gave way to the blind fury that had been building up for years.

Yeah, I could have slit my father's throat right then and there and at the time I probably would have been more proud than upset: even if that feeling would only have lasted a few moments. But instead I didn't, I decided to think it through. I wondered where I'd be without the man in front of me. Sure, I'd maybe be happier and I'd maybe be a little bit more confident – but I sure as hell wouldn't be me. I wouldn't be the Wally West that I turned out to be. The one who hated home life so much that he threw himself into science and became something of a prodigy at it. The one who couldn't face reality so instead threw himself into jokes using his wit and sense of humour that claimed him a variety of good friends. I moulded a personality for myself all on my own.

Instead of doing anything that I knew I would later regret, I just sank to my knees and started to cry waterfalls. I don't remember how long I cried that night, knowing how close I had come to murdering my own father and knowing how much I hadn't cared at all whilst thinking about it on my way home from school that day. Just then, when thinking about committing a murder, even I had no idea at all of who I was. That scared me a whole lot more than my father ever had.

It was then that I decided that rather than eradicating my cursed home life in order to change my situation, I could change my life some other way. There had to be someone or something out there that could help me to overcome my past and give me the future that I deserved. Every child deserved a future and mine had never taken into consideration when I was with my parents. It was only a month or so later that I joined the Flash and began to work as a sidekick.

I learned a lesson, a very important lesson that I try to pass on to as many people as I possibly can. No matter how bad things get, and no matter how long that bad period may last, it will always end. I had thought that nobody cared, but it was a complete lie. A lie created by the one man who wanted to control something in his life so desperately that he almost ruined someone else's. There's someone out there for everyone: it just took me a long time to see that.

"So you see? I completely understand where you are coming from. But you're making a mistake, kid. Trust me, you're making a mistake." I insisted. The kid's hand which was holding his gun was now shaking violently with nerves. He bit down on his lip and pushed the barrel of the gun into his father's head and his eyes filled with tears. Artemis drew her bow and aimed the arrow at the gun, but I put a hand on the weapon and lowered it for her. The kid would make the right choice, I was sure of it. Robin was looking at me in awe; he knew how difficult it is to tell that story for me. But it was the look in Robin's eyes that was the reason that I told the story in the first place. To inspire, to teach. To comfort.

After a tense minute, with the man strapped down to a chair looking extremely anxious with his eyes squeezed together, the kid lowered the gun and threw it away from himself. He then did exactly what I did all those years ago and collapses to the ground in tears. I walked calmly over to him and put an arm around his shoulder, assuring him that he wouldn't regret his choice.

"You said that there was someone out there for everyone, right?" The kid asked in between gulps of air. I nodded with a warm smile and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. He looked up at me with these big eyes that didn't seem quite in proportion. It sounds rude, but seriously his eyes were bigger than human biology should really allow and they made me feel dizzy for some reason when I was looking into them. The kid spoke again, "Are you going to come and help me then?" I jumped back in shock. The kid had spoken but the voice wasn't his, it belonged to Robin. Why did his voice suddenly sound like Robin's?

I woke up with a start. What? It was all a dream? Surely that's impossible it was so real! I had only ever felt reality similar to that when M'Gann took over my mind once to collect some of my memories together when we were all lost in Bialya. Was the kid trying to contact me somehow? Show me what he was thinking before he really even did anything? No, that was impossible. I looked up and started again when I saw Robin leaning casually in my door frame.

"Well? I asked if you were going to come and help me, we have a hostage situation in progress and it looks like they're father and son."

_**Thanks for reading. It's a little bit weird I know, but I had to get it out of the way otherwise I'd never be able to focus on my other stories!**_

_**Please review if you have the time!**_

_**Varishi x**_


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